A Prime Is To Serve
by Valora
Summary: A Prime has to take care of his people's problems, even of the Bumblebee-sized ones. WARNING: SMUT


**Little one shot. Can be described in one word: smut. This is none of the universes I'm using in any Transformers story I'm writing on right now (it's two stories actually, but I'm posting them when they're finished because it's so hard to write new stuff or correct finished chapters when you've already posted stuff). Just had a...little dream about a certain Prime and thought it would be fun to write. So be prepared for what my sick mind created in stand by mode.**

**Transformers belongs to... a lot of people, but certainly not to me.**

**A PRIME IS TO SERVE**

"_Every Prime shall be a servant to his people. _

_He is responsible for their well being, their defense and their problems. _

_He shall do everything in his might to ensure their survival."_

That was what his caretakers, his teachers and everyone involved in his nurture had told him. That was the oath his whole life was based on. He was born to serve, he lived to serve and he would die to serve, it was his destiny. He knew his place in the world. And he would do everything to fulfill his job.

Optimus sat at a table near the energon suspender in their recreation room quietly, an empty cube in his hand, his optical sensors watching over every movement, just like a clucking hen watching over her fledglings. Autobots were sitting or standing in small groups, chatting, laughing and ingesting their noon rations of energon. They had been lucky, being able to form an alliance with the humans. They were protecting earth and were supplied with the energy they needed in return. The last battle with the Decepticons had not caused much damage to them and the past weeks had been remarkably quiet. However, there was one thing that Optimus was extremely worried about, and it- or better he- was sitting at the other side of the rectangular table, watching Ironhide and his sparkmate Chromia talk quietly. The weapons specialist smiled as a friendly reaction to what she had just whispered into his audio sensor and sneaked his arm around her waist, placing a gentle kiss on top of her head. Bumblebee's optics narrowed, not in an angry but envious way, his lenses losing almost all of their color. The Prime spoke up to distract the young spy from the flirting couple.

"So. What are you planning to do on your day off?" Not the best way to start a conversation, but small talk would have to do for now. The yellow bot shrugged.

"Dunno."

"I heard you made some new human friends. Would be a good opportunity to pay them a visit, wouldn't it?"

"Hm."

Optimus sighed. "Bumblebee, is there something you want to tell me?"

"No."

The big red and blue mech stood up, replacing the facemask he had removed to drink and threw the empty energon cube into the recycling bin before turning to his youngest soldier again. "You know, you can always talk to me, no matter what's the problem."

Bumblebee didn't answer, but resumed staring at his energon like he had before. He had never seen the young spy acting so weird and he had known him since he had hatched from his gestation pod. Something was seriously wrong with the usually so bubbly and talkative youngling and Optimus needed to find out what it was. After hesitating briefly, Prime made his way out of the room and back to his office, but stopped at the entrance to the working area, right in front of the med bay. Maybe Ratchet knew something. Since the medic had the habit of scanning everyone in his path without asking (and often without them realizing it), which was somehow creepy but useful, he would certainly know if Bumblebee's problem was of physical nature. As expected, the commander found his friend in his domain, cleaning a set of sharp, shiny tools and setting them on an equally shiny tray one by one. Knocking on the door from the inside, the taller mech cocked his head to the side, his vocal processor emitting a sound close to clearing his throat. Sitting with his back to Optimus. Ratchet spoke.

"Hello Optimus. Your energy signal is on a higher frequency than usual. What's the matter?"

He stepped closer. "It's Bumblebee. He's been behaving ...odd lately. He won't talk to me and I wondered if you know something about it."

"Bumblebee, yes. Quite an uncomfortable situation he's in."

"Is it something to worry about?"

Ratchet shrugged, placing another tool on the tray. "He's not sick or damaged if that's what you mean. But you know, he got into his first heat exactly 4.8 days ago. I think it's really bothering him."

The other Autobot covered his face with one hand, realization dawning upon him. First heat. That explained everything. "I also think he's tried masturbation several times." the medic continued. "But as you might know, that doesn't help at all. He needs to download the software from someone else. Otherwise-"

"-he might go insane. I know." Optimus said. "I... I'll think of something. It's killing me to see the kid like this." Snorting, Ratchet brought another long tool with thin, straight wires sticking out at the end up to his face to examine it closely.

"You might _think of something_ soon, because he could damage his intimate circuitry unintentionally if he's getting too desperate trying to relieve his tension and I don't think that solving his problem by simply removing his male parts will make anybody happy." Optimus shook his head.

"No, It certainly won't. Thanks for the info, Ratch."

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

* * *

He had made his decision. It would happen tonight. It was an unsettling thought to be offering his _services_ to someone he had raised himself, but the young spy didn't have anyone else. To hell with the restraints, the kid needed help. And he, as the Prime, would provide it. Suddenly, the base reverberated with an incredibly loud yell of pain, sending shivers down the huge Autobot's armor. Bumblebee. Within seconds, he had stood up from his desk and was storming down the halls towards the personal quarters, where the scream had come from. Images raced through his mind. Images of the youngling cringing in pain, images of him holding his bleeding circuitry in his hands, shivering. The first heat a Cybertronian ever experienced was excruciatingly strong, their onlining intimate circuitry demanding a sexual intercourse to download the software that would complete the process of maturation. This craving had sometimes become so strong the young mechs and femmes couldn't stand it anymore and some had even ended their lives just to make it stop. He skidded to a halt in front of Bee's door and knocked so hard and fast he left dents in it.

"Bumblebee!! What happened?? Are you injured? Say something!", he shouted.

"Go...away...", came the miserable answer. The corridor quickly crowded with other Autbots, most of them whispering and mumbling. Then a few of them were simply shoved to the side when Ratchet made his way through the group.

"Grapple, you need an oil change." The medic stood before the door, also banging his fist against it. "Open the door, kid. We're gonna help you."

"Leave me alone."

"Bumblebee, you need help." Optimus said, resting his palm against the metal door.

"No I don't!", the young mech shrieked desperately.

"You're not leaving me a choice." Optimus quickly slid the door keypad's cover aside and overrode the lock. The next moment both he and Ratchet were inside the room, seeing the small yellow bot cowering in a corner, clutching parts of his armor and circulating air heavily. A quick scan told Ratchet that his assumption of what had happened was right, but he couldn't pinpoint the extend of the damage to Bee's circuits. The medic kneeled down in front of him, put one hand on each of the youngling's knee joints and pulled his legs apart so he could see for himself. Bumblebee struggled and tried to keep his legs closed in vain as the much stronger medic continued his examination.

"Don't! Ratchet! NOO!!" Optimus closed the door so they would be safe from prying optics. Fear was written all over his face, he felt sick. Just like every time Bumblebee had ever been damaged. Ratchet sighed. "The damage is minor. He's just ripped out a small sensor cable. Hurts like the pit but I can repair it in an astrosecond. Stop struggling, damn it! Prime! Hold him!" Bee screamed out of anger and embarrassment when Ratchet shoved him into his commander and showed him how to hold the legs. Optimus gulped. This was not a situation he liked very much. Neither did Bumblebee, but it was for his own sake. Now there he sat on this small recharge berth, clutching his protesting friend to his chest and holding up his legs so Ratchet could do the repair.

* * *

"I'm sorry for your discomfort. I know this has been an awkward situation for you." Optimus spoke calmly, still sitting on the recharge berth, Bumblebee sitting on the floor a couple of meters away from him.

"You don't know anything. You don't know what I'm going through.", the youngling whispered with a voice that was rough from screaming.

"Believe it or not, when I was young I went through exactly the same thing." Bee looked up, his now dark blue optics glistening angrily.

"You grew up in a completely populated city with thousands of Autobots around that could solve your problem! I don't have anyone! Tell me, _Optimus Prime,_ do you remember it? Do you remember how this slag drives you insane? Do you remember how it fragging hurts??" Prime sighed once again, staring at his feet and wringing his hands.

"I do. That's why I'm here now. I came to offer my help." Silence. The yellow bot's optics widened with every second that passed. "You... what?" He couldn't believe it. Was he really saying what he thought he did?

"You need a certain download, I can provide it. You don't have to be afraid. It won't hurt and you will never have such a strong... desire again. I just want to help."

The small mech gulped. "We're talking about interfacing here."

"Yes."

"You...and me...you mean..."

"Yes."

"But... you're like a father to me, I don't think I could..."

Optimus stood up and moved over to him before kneeling down and putting his hand on his companion's smooth cheek. "I know. And this is just as unpleasant for me as it is for you, but I can't bear seeing you like that. This is just not you. I can see how it's torturing you. Let me relieve you."

Bee looked into his optics, close to tears. He never had intended to go to such lengths with his protector. But what choice did he have? Mewling, he leaned close to Optimus and put his arms around him (as far as they could reach). "Okay", he whispered. Prime took off his mask, letting it hit the floor with a clatter and rubbed his huge hand up and down Bee's back. "Good boy..." After delivering a quick kiss to the youngling's forehead he backed off a little and positioned an anxious looking Bumblebee sitting with his back against the wall, his legs spread. With agile fingers, Optimus removed the yellow plating covering his crotch at first observing what was hidden beneath. Cables curved into each other, delicate metal and sensitive wires surrounded the origin of Bee's problem: his interfacing probe. Gently, careful not to go to fast for his first time, a blue hand reached out to touch it, grazing thick fingers over the, for his standards, rather small application. It jerked at the first touch, it's owner's whole body tensing up. Optimus cooed, trying to get him to relax. "Ssssh...it's alright..." He wrapped his hand around the bundle of tubes and cables and ran his thumb over the connector at the end of it, causing it to buzz with electricity and earning a moan from the yellow spy, who was panting nervously and clutching the huge red shoulder next to his knee. While one hand continued its work on the now completely stiff bundle, the other extended to examine the port located beneath it. He traced the edges of the opening with his index finger and tried to push it in carefully. Bumblebee gasped, grabbing his leaders antennae firmly and tensing further. Optimus stopped. His fingertip was only halfway in and the port was already stretched to its limit. He was sure that if he shoved his own probe in there it would rip his little friend apart.

He let go of him and started to remove his own crotch plating. Bee's optics went from big to huge when he saw his commander's member; he unconsciously closed his legs, staring. The Prime chuckled.

"Don't worry, I won't be using that." He lay down on his back and motioned for Bee to come closer. He obeyed, sitting down beside him, not really knowing what to do next. Optimus propped himself up on his elbows, smiling. He'd do what he could to make it a nice experience for his protégé. Pulling him into a soft kiss he resumed working the virgin interface application. Soon, little black hands started moving, exploring the enormous metal body in front of him, enjoying the feeling of smooth metal. But this was taking too long for Bee. He needed release, he needed that damn software. He whimpered. "Optimus, please..." The red and blue mech reacted to his plea by spreading his own legs and lifting them to grant better access.

"There. Ready and waiting for you." The young mech hesitated. His CPU and his instincts told him to do it, to move between those massive white thighs and bury himself in the warm port, but his spark told him not to. Would he really dare to cross that line? Would he be able to live with himself if he did it? By Primus, he wasn't an innocent hatchling anymore, not after what he'd seen and done in this war, but this mech was, even if not genetically, a part of his family.

"Come on, Bumblebee. You don't have to be so nervous." The baritone of his voice was so familiar and yet so foreign in this situation. Slowly, strong blue hands took hold of his waist and lifted him over the massive body of Optimus Prime, placing him between the still spread legs. Bee planted his palms on the thickly armored hips in front of him and took in the sight. Thick cables were running over Prime's internal parts and a port that was way bigger than his own but still rather small was exposed to him. A blue hand grasped his own black one tightly, dwarfing it and squeezing reassuringly. The yellow bot wondered how long the port in front of him hadn't been used. He knew that Optimus had had a pretty active youth concerning interfacing, but as long as he could remember he never got intimate with anyone after the death of his beloved Elita, and she had died a couple of centuries ago. He looked at the older mech's face again. He seemed to be relaxed, patiently waiting for him to move. His probe was practically screaming for him to start and penetrate the port that was only inches away from him. There it was, the solution for his mind shattering problem and he didn't dare to move.

"Take your time. No one is chasing you." Bumblebee took in a vast amount of air before leaning forward and starting to push inside. Optimus forced himself to relax. His port had become damn tight in the past millennia... actually, he was glad the probe was only Bumblebee-sized. Said bee moaned, pushing in further, every thought of morale and doubt vanquished by desire and banned from his processor. When he had buried himself inside the Prime to the hilt, he adjusted his position minimally and pulled out a little, just to shove his member back in slowly. The bigger mech hissed and clenched his fists, which had returned to his sides once again. He wasn't used to this treatment anymore, but he knew the pain would subside soon enough, just a little longer...

Heightening his movement's speed, Bee started shivering, his head seemingly spinning in a frantic pace. It felt so incredible, moving inside his leader, the tight port clenching around his cables...it was just too much...the almost painful tingling in his abdomen was increasing to an unbearable level...he couldn't take it much longer... the world around him didn't matter anymore, his now almost brutal thrusts were beating all sanity out of him when time began to stop...

His interface partner was already close, Optimus could see that. His heavy breathing, flickering optics and hasty movements...it was time to give him what he needed. Inside his abdomen, an outlet opened and with the next thrust, the connection was set up. Bumblebee screamed in pure ecstasy, stopping all of his movements when the software was transferred. The older Transformer secured their hips with a vice like grip, watching the youngling overload, shivering himself, but feeling nothing but a slight tingle. Then it was over. Exhausted, Bumblebee sagged onto Optimus' grill, groaning weakly.

The Autobot commander sat up slowly, dragging the now unconscious, small mech along. For a few seconds, he just sat there, holding him to his chest. He couldn't believe he had just done that. That he had _seduced_ Bumblebee. And that his little Bumblebee was an adult now...

Optimus stood up. He had forgotten about time completely. He had a meeting with Prowl in 17 minutes and he hadn't prepared anything for it yet. He carried Bee over to his small berth and lay him down gently before getting his pelvic armor back on and leaving quietly. His long legs carried him down the corridor as if nothing had happened. He didn't regret what he had done. He had done it for Bumblebee, for an Autobot. He had done it for his people.

**So...what do you think? This is the first smut scene I've ever posted. There's much more to come in my other stories (although not with this pairing).**


End file.
